


i'm afraid that's just the way the world works

by euphoricastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15.09 coda, Angst, I'm so sorry, M/M, Not A Fix-It, if u squint a lil then it's not, mcd but only kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22577914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphoricastiel/pseuds/euphoricastiel
Summary: in which dean has to lock cas up in the ma’lak box and it’s every bit as tragic as you’d expect it to be
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 20
Kudos: 53





	i'm afraid that's just the way the world works

It’s a lot darker than Castiel thought it would be. He reaches up and traces a hand along the roof of the Ma’lak box. It’s uneven and rough, slightly damp to the touch. The box shifts slightly under his hand as Dean leans against the outside. The air is heavy, weighed down by regret and sorrow and words left unsaid.

Another bump against the box - Castiel figures Dean put his forehead against it. He imagines Dean closing his eyes and clenching his fist, face twisting in agony yet straining to hold back a tear threatening to fall. Castiel will think of every small mannerism he’s ever picked up from him so he won’t ever have a reason to forget. He can’t forget, Castiel won’t allow himself to. Dean heaves a deep sigh and breaks the silence, like the final drop making the water tip over the edge. “Cas, I don’t even know where to start. Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know you understand- God, I hope you do.” Dean manages to keep his voice relatively even, but it’s tainted with uncertainty and lined with something along the lines of desperate hope.

If there’s one thing Castiel does understand about this, it’s that Dean did exactly what he had to do. He’d be an idiot to hold any of it above Dean’s head when even Castiel considers this to be a merciful destiny compared to what could’ve been instead. He’d rather spend the rest of eternity right here than have to watch Dean die by Castiel’s hand.

“And Christ, if I don’t know you have enough to worry about already, but I just gotta tell you…” Dean trails off and taps his fingers rapidly, sending an echoing sound through the box that bounces against the walls and gets trapped inside. Dean stays silent for a bit. “I’ll miss you, man. Fuck, more than anything, I’ll miss you. Every goddamn day.”

Castiel is gonna miss him, too. Hell, Dean’s still here and Cas already misses him. It’s too much, too big, the part of him that left the second Dean closed the casket. Castiel doesn’t want to feel the pit of emptiness it leaves behind in him, but he still does. No matter what he does, Castiel knows he’ll always miss him.

“And it scares me, Cas. I would’ve- I did everything I could to save you - everything. I had no fucking choice, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

They stay silent for a while, breathing in sync.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do when you’re not here. When I can’t see your face or hear your voice every day. Any day. I’ll never hear you laugh at my stupid jokes, or talk about bees or technology or whatever had you interested, and that’s not even the saddest part - you wanna know what that is? If I could go back and- and do it all over again, I never would’ve let you stop. I’d have let you talk and talk for hours, however long you wanted, and I would’ve listened as if it was the last time I’d ever hear it. A little late for that now, huh?” Dean lets out a quiet chuckle that harshly breaks off at the end. “Fuck, it’s too late.”

The words seem to be tumbling out of Dean without halt, yet they also seem to be forced out with immense struggle. Maybe it’s a combination.

“I don’t know what I’ll become when you leave, what’ll be left of me - if there’ll even be anything, I guess. Truth is, Cas, I don’t know who I am without you anymore.”

The next part comes out slightly muffled, and Castiel recognizes it from whever Dean would rub a hand over his face in frustration. He sighs heavily.

“Guess I’ll find out.”

Dean stays there for a very long time - hours, days, who knows? Castiel doesn’t count. Instead, he listens to the sound of Dean’s breathing, uneven and ragged, while trying to map out his face from memory, terrified he’ll forget if he doesn’t force himself to remember. The curve of Dean’s jaw - ever the reminder of a touch that got away from him; the freckles sprinkled across his face, composing constellations more beautiful than anything Cas could ever imagine; his eyes. Castiel often finds himself pondering over the endless sea of colours materializing in those eyes he so frequently gets lost in. They’re green, bright green - it’s the colour of Dean’s soul. Dean would flash Castiel a beaming smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Castiel swore he could see entire galaxies full of stars flash over his irises, as if they were a mere doorway into his soul. Every time, Castiel thinks maybe it’d be okay if he died right then and there. He wouldn’t mind them being the last thing he saw.

Dean’s eyes are a thousand lost gazes, an eternal reminder of what never was. But in the end, they’re still Dean’s eyes, right? How could they ever be anything but effortlessly beautiful?

If he must forget, Castiel hopes they are the last thing he’ll remember.

—

“I’ve lost track of how many days it’s been without you now. I thought it’d wear off after a while or something, but fuck, it still hurts so bad- way too fucking bad.”

Castiel didn’t count in the first place - he never dared to start. Dean’s voice sounds different when Castiel can’t hear it from outside the casket anymore, relying on the static connecting him to somewhere up on the ground. He closes his eyes and listens intently, memorizing every word and locking them away someplace he prays he’ll remember.

“Something… something’s been on my mind lately. Man, I can barely keep my head straight these days, but I figure, what the hell, right? I’m not hurting anybody anymore.”

Shit. Fuck.

“I’ll never forgive myself for never saying it out loud even though there wasn’t a moment I stopped thinking about it. Every time I saw you, it was the first thing that came to mind, and it just… never left. I pretended it wasn’t there instead of telling you while I still had the chance, and now it’s too late.”

Dean sniffs loudly. Castiel can feel warm tears gently trailing down his cheek.

“It’s too fucking late.”

Castiel pretends he can see Dean in front of him. He always wished he could’ve seen Dean’s face when he said it, and he finds it hard to imagine he could bear anything less. And so, he pretends. He depicts himself somewhere else, somewhere it’s not too late and somewhere they’ve could’ve done this together instead of worlds apart.

“It may be too late, but I still love you, Cas - of course I do. And I’ll never forgive myself for being too big of a fucking coward to tell you.”

Castiel keeps his eyes shut, clenching his hands at his sides.

“I… I need you to know there wasn’t a day I ever doubted it-, doubted you. Not even after you left, not one day. And I don’t think I’ll ever let go. So, I guess you’re stuck with me, huh? ‘Cause I’ll be with you until the day I die, you hear me? Even if we gotta do it like this. I won’t stop loving you until I’m forced to.”

They fill Castiel up, swallow him whole, the words he’ll never get to say. They twist and turn and leave him with an emptiness worse than spending the rest of eternity without Dean. They ache to be yelled across rooftops, whispered so low only he can hear.

I love you, too. Of course I do.

—

It’s cold. Not that Castiel can feel it - he can only imagine. That’s all he ever does, all he’ll ever be able to do. Imagine.

He imagines he was back on earth, back in the bunker. But mostly, he imagines he wasn’t alone.

—

“I gets harder every day, man. I don’t know how long I’ll make it without you.”

Cas is starting to think he might be going crazy. The rational part of him knows he already has.

—

“Yeah, uhm- Me n’ Sam are going out. Fucker said he’d do that fuckin’ hunt without me and I’d be damned if I’d ever let him. I promised myself I’d quit, but he’s all I got left. I can’t- I can’t lose him, too.”

And Castiel waits. And he waits, and he waits. 

Dean doesn’t pray to him ever again after that.

The first thing Castiel realises is that he’ll never hear Dean’s voice again, and it scares him far more than he’s ready to admit. He won’t hear about his day, about Sam, about the bunker and everything else up there. He won’t hear Dean say he loves him again. Dean was the only thing he could cling to, his one connection to reality. When he heard Dean’s voice, he was reassured - it’s another day, and Dean’s still here. He’s still here.

And with Dean comes hope - isn’t that how it’s always been? Knowing Dean was up there was knowing somebody remembered him. Without Dean, Castiel is lost, forgotten - not even a memory. Nobody misses him. Nobody wants him back.

Castiel is left alone, forever stuck to a memory - a memory of what used to be. Seeing his face, hearing his voice. But all things eventually come to an end, and at some point he’ll start to forget. It’ll continue fading until he can’t remember what’s missing. Until he can’t remember who Dean ever was. Until he can’t remember who he is himself.

But he never stops waiting for him. In what world would he ever stop waiting?

**Author's Note:**

> hi! thanks for sticking around all the way to the end, hope u enjoyed!
> 
> this is mostly dedicated to lar cause she made me post this, ily u lil softie <33  
> BUT ALSO to jess, dasha & mel bcs they read through it and gave me feedback!
> 
> lastly, this is the first work i ever published so please don't be too harsh on me! feel free to leave kudos and any positive/negative comment u see fit :)


End file.
